From Rags
by theb3arjew
Summary: In a world where less than 1% of the population is born with a quirk, the weight of the war between heroes and villains falls on far fewer shoulders. Izuku Midoriya, however, doesn't care one bit. No matter the odds, he wants to follow in his idol's footsteps. Quirkless or not, Deku WILL become a hero. Of that, he's sure. He just doesn't know how, yet.
1. Prologue

Not all men are created equal.

A pessimistic thought, yes, but the truth in it is undeniable. Some would argue that the world had always been that way and frankly, they're probably correct. But that statement became indisputable fact when 'quirks' first appeared.

Quirks. Unexplainable, supernatural, seemingly impossible abilities that tore holes in just about every single accepted scientific theory known to mankind. For no understood reason, certain people could suddenly turn invisible, or fly, or, well, the list could go on all day.

Some quirks were more powerful than others. Some came straight from a comic fanatic's wettest of dreams. Others, honestly, were pretty lame. But, no matter what, anybody with a quirk immediately had an advantage over just about any quirkless individual.

Even now, generations after quirks first popped up, less that 1% of the world's population are gifted with the inexplicable abilities. Fewer yet are born with legitimately powerful quirks.

In an alternate world, a world where, let's say, 80% of the world was born with a quirk, on could easily imagine a world that revolved around super-powered heroes and villains. There would likely be insane fights in the street, and all kinds of wannabes clogging up society. It would certainly make for an entertaining tale.

But in this world, the real world, things just don't work that way. With 'gifted' individuals making up such a heavy minority, its genuinely easier to keep one's abilities hidden. There isn't typically any blatant racism or anything like that, but a degree of jealousy is inevitable.

Those who do choose to flaunt their abilities, however, generally don't face the ire of society. Using a quirk to press an advantage isn't seen as cheap or unfair, it's seen as, well, smart. The most successful are even seen as celebrities. The status quo really is the best case scenario. For the most part, everything worked itself out.

Unfortunately, as everyone knows, life isn't fair, and things don't always follow the status quo. Shit happens, superpowers or not. All it really takes is one dude with a helluva quirk and a fucked up childhood and BAM! You now have a supervillain. Give a dickhead some power, and he can spread his dickishness to the world. It isn't common, but it does happen.

That's why the world has UA.

The University of Apollo. Named after the Roman god of arts and knowledge and all kinds of other good shit, UA is the world's counter to villainy. The internationally-funded four year university is located in the rolling hills of South Dakota, where the school takes full advantage of the massive expanse of empty land to churn out the world's next generation of superheroes. And, of course, it's absurd budget doesn't hurt either.

Thousands of aspiring heroes apply every year, but the school only accepts 100 students into each graduating class. Only the best of the best get in, and UA is always quick to cut loose any underperformers. Hell, the school has been known to cut entire classes when necessary. It's a system without slack, but it's still effective. One only needs to look at it's most famous graduate to prove that.

All Might. The World's Symbol of Peace.

Top ten hero rankings are often the topic of endless barstool debates, but the number one spot is never disputed. There's All Might, and then there's everybody else.

That's why, despite a recent trend of small, expensive, private 'hero training' facilities, every wannabe hero applies to UA. The school has a comprehensive application process that starts in a high school student's third year. Applicants start by filling out a pretty standard college application. Ya know, grades, background, the usual boring stuff. Just about everybody makes it through that step.

Next, the school looks at the spread of applicants and sets up local testing centers, where the kids take a written test. A very, very difficult written test. That, my friend, is where the cookies start to crumble.

See, many holders of powerful quirks don't exactly lead difficult lives. Those that decide to try to become heroes tend to do so in a very public manner, and the people around them begin to swarm. Their lives start being served on silver platters. People like that oft expect to be able to cruise through the entire examination process, and, well, it just doesn't work that way. There's a reason why so many of society's most revered celebrities started in gutters and slums. It takes work ethic _and_ talent to get anywhere.

Heroes have to think. Hostages need to be tracked and kept safe. Property damage must be controlled. Information must be gathered, assessed, and utilized with extreme swiftness and precision. Spoiled brats simply can't do that.

Thus, after the crowds are significantly thinned by the written assessment, the physical test is held. The remaining applicants are flown to their regional testing centers, where they are put through any one of a laundry list of cleverly-designed combat simulation tests. The scores are weighted by the overall quality of the test takers in the testing facility, and the top 90 global scores are admitted into the college.

The other 10 spots are filled by recommendations from several top hero agencies. Usually, they're either prodigies or the offspring of some legendary hero. Sometimes, they're both.

The students always come from all over the planet. They come from different cultures, races, classes. But, so far, they've all had one thing in common. They've all been born with quirks.

The precedent exists with good reason. How could a superhero exist without a superpower? Powers are kinda pretty powerful. It's in the name. Maybe one could go the way of Ironman or Batman. Both had enough money, gizmos, and plot-essential luck to basically create their own powers.

But Izuku Midoriya possessed neither money nor gizmos. He wasn't a prodigious fighter, nor a crafty inventor. Smart, maybe, but nothing to write home about. And, of course, he was completely, utterly quirkless.

He was a hero in the making.

* * *

 **AN: THIS SERIES IS AMAZING!**

 **Seriously, if you're one of my few regular readers, check out My Hero Academia. It's just so damn... good. There's really no other way to put it.**

 **Anyway, here's a little prologue thingy I put together to avoid the usual clunky exposition that takes place in the first few chapters of an AU. Is a prologue lazy? Absolutely. But my goal with this fic is to work on my worldbuilding, and I felt like this was a necessity to get things moving.**

 **Enough with the excuses though :P Hope you all enjoyed the tiny teaser, and there should be more on the way soon. Stay tuned!**

 **-theb3arjew**


	2. Chapter 1: Study Time

Izuku Midoriya was tired of hearing the same old question.

"Why do you want to become a hero so badly?"

At first, he'd always answered the question as truthfully as he could, excited to show off his ideology to the world. He'd stand up straight, give his best cocky smile, and state proudly that he just wanted to help people.

It never really mattered how he phrased it, because the response was always the same. Laughter. Sometimes, it was nervous laughter, laughter that wondered whether the kid with the shaggy green hair was insane or just plain dumb. Other times, the laughter took on a more ridiculous tone as people thought about the ineffable concept of this quirkless nothing of a child magically turning into a hero. Over time, that cocky rin faded into the nervous half-smile that Izuku now seemed to wear at all times.

Under the hot water of the shower, Izuku frowned at the less-than-pleasant memories. Shower time had always been his thinking time, and recently, he'd spent far too much of that time thinking of alternative answers to that same old question. He thought back to the endless minutes spent planning conversations, predicting responses. Time wasted, he now realized.

Why did he want to become a hero?

Because he wanted to help people. Because nobody had any reason to remember Izuku Midoriya's story among billions of others. Because he wanted to inspire, to teach people to pay it forward, just like All Might.

That was his answer, and it was the only answer that mattered. He now understood that the world didn't need to understand his motives, nor his objectives. They just needed to see the that he would become. That would be enough.

Proud of his noble conclusion, he shut off the water and towelled off. The lanky adolescent walked over to the fog-clouded mirror and used his hand to wipe away the haziness.

Izuku held his head high as the semi-determined look he wore came into focus. Talk was cheap, and he hadn't even spoken a word of his plans aloud yet. If he was ever going to become a hero, then he actually needed to do something. Something bold.

* * *

"Fuck off, Deku."

Izuku held firm.

"Kacchan, I need to talk to you, please. Only a minute, I swear!"

Katsuki Bakugo held up his hand in an attempt to ward off the unwanted, buzzy presence.

"I don't have time for this shit. UA's written exam is in less that two fucking days."

Now desperate, Izuku decided to take a risk.

"How did you do on the practice exam?"

"None of your fucking busi… Wait, are you trying to help me or some shit?! I don't want your goddamn help!"

The quirkless boy raised his hands up in surrender.

"No, not that. I want to make a trade. A deal." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook. "You might think it's nerdy, but these journals I keep helped me get a perfect score on that practice test."

"Why should I care?"

Izuku gulped. It was now or never.

"You want to be the best hero on the planet, right? A perfect score on the UA written exam would probably be a good start. You're smart, a genius even, but… The exam, it has a bunch of pointless stuff on it that nobody cares about. You'd need to spend hours reading ridiculous amounts of terrible writing to answer all of those questions correctly. You don't have time for that."

"But I've already done it, and all of that information is in my journals. It wouldn't be difficult at all to browse through them and cram for the two days until the test."

Bakugo's initial instincts told him to blow the ever-living shit out of that notebook, but he bit back the anger in a moment of strange self-control. He would do well on the test either way, of course, but a perfect score would certainly be a good thing. And Deku, as lame as he was, did know way too much about all of the little shit that would inevitably be sprinkled throughout the test. Maybe this deal was worth a look.

"What do you want in return? Don't push me, because I will just take that fucking book from you."

"N-n-no, o-of course not! After the exam is over, I want… I want to fight you. Or spar. As often as possible. Use your quick, use me for target practice, whatever you want. That's all I want in return."

Now Bakugo was just confused. Did Deku want to die?

"Why the hell would you want that?"

"I don't care what you or anybody else thinks anymore. I'm going to become a hero. And you, you're the best hero around here, and you're not even out of high school yet! I need…" Izuku took a deep breath to collect himself, "I need to learn how to fight, how to defend myself without a quirk. No more planning, no more thinking. I need to start working."

Bakugo let the silence linger for a moment as he thought the offer over. Deku's plan was retarded, no doubt, but at least his lame little follower had finally grown some balls. The free blast dummy would be nice, and skimming through those stupid notebooks would surely be easier than spending the next two days crawling through databases.

Without another word, Bakugo snatched the journal from Izuku's hands and left with a miniscule nod. It would be brutal, and possibly fatal, but Izuku finally had a trainer. Kinda.

* * *

3:41 PM: _Text Received from "_ Fucking Deku"

 _Kacchan, when do you want me to give you the rest of the journals?_

* * *

3:43 PM: _Text Received from "_ Kacchan"

 _Fuck off Deku_

* * *

5:11 PM: _Text Received from "_ Kacchan"

 _Bring it now_

* * *

Ochako Uraraka always wore gloves.

That was just a fact of her existence. Nobody knew why, and nobody ever really asked, save for some curious kindergarten classmates way back when. People just thought it was her "thing"; a way for an otherwise inconspicuous girl to stand out a little bit. Or maybe she had dry hands or something. Who knows, who cares?

Only three people actually knew why she wore those gloves, and they all lived under one roof. The Uraraka family had always been extremely… ordinary. No wealth, no quirks, no exceptional intelligence, and no expectations. It was practically a tradition. Then Ochako happened.

She still carried that air of normalcy about her, but she had always been a bit different, even before her quirk had manifested. She had always been airy and innocent, and that mindset didn't really fit in a struggling household. Not that her parents loved her any less for it, but Ochako had always been smart enough to conclude what her Mom and Dad would never say aloud.

She was her family's hope.

She had a quirk. She was smart. She had potential that their family had only ever dreamed of.

So she did some research. She saw that people with quirks were often subconsciously discriminated against, so Ochako hid her quirk. No need to stack any more cards against her. She acted completely average, with the lone exception of her grades, and did her best to stay as far away from the center of attention as possible.

Maybe when she got into UA. Yeah, maybe then, she could act like herself. But until then, she didn't get to live her life. Not while her parents both worked 70 hour weeks to keep the lights on in their tiny apartment.

In college, the real Ochako would be unleashed upon the world. For now, though, she was just a Uraraka with a secret. And the test of her life in 2 short days. But who was thinking about that?

* * *

 **(A/N) Took me a little while, but here's the first chapter! A bit on the short side, but I'm trying to be careful with all this exposition schtuff. I don't want all you wonderful bastards yawning at each update :P**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed! Lemme know what ya think :D**


	3. Chapter 2: Wax On, Wax Off

In a world with a vast menagerie of supervillains, time had become All Might's mortal enemy. It was pathetic.

He was down to three hours. Three measly hours. He could only be All Might for 1/8th of each day. The rest of the time, he was Toshinori, a skeleton of a man who would blow over if the wind blew too hard.

Dammit, being the Symbol of Peace wasn't a part-time job! Yet here he was, walking through a park as evil doubtlessly brewed in the deep, dark corners of society and he couldn't do anything about it. In less than a year, his search for a successor at UA would begin, and the world would soon after be left in far more reliable hands. Until then, All Might just had to keep playing this stupid game of budgeting and prioritization. He felt like some mediocre middle manager, locked out of his office of cubicles and balding pencil pushers.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he resigned himself to this unwanted fate, and winced as the skin began to peel under his bony hand. Apparently his new complexion was far more vulnerable to the hot afternoon sun. Toshinori sighed as he looked around for a shadier route. Thankfully, the park had an easy hiking trail through the woods near the rarely-visited center of the complex, so he made his way over there.

As the sickly man stalked down the peaceful path, a series of booms echoed from a short distance away. Without hesitation, he veered off the trail and headed toward the strange sounds. After a few moments, the sounds stopped, and an angry young voice quickly broke the short-lived tranquility.

"Stop wasting my time, Deku! This is boring. I thought you were going to fight back, as training or some shite. But here you are, cowering away like the loser you really are. Pathetic!"

All Might heard the speaker stomp away through the underbrush. He waited a minute or two before moving in to check on this 'Deku'.

When Toshinori broke through to the clearing, he saw a young man leaning against a tree stump. The boy's wild green hair was matted on side from the blood oozing from a gash below his left ear. His nose appeared to be broken, and he was clearly favoring his right foot as he tried to drag himself upright.

"Kid, are you alright?"

Apparently the boy hadn't yet noticed Toshinori, and he yelped in surprise as he fell back to the ground. The man couldn't help but roll his eyes.

:Here, let's get ya set up before I call the police. That boy really…"

The boy fell to the ground again as he tried to raise his hands in protest.

"Ooof. N-no, sir. Please d-don't call anyone. I'm f-fine, really."

Toshinori raised his eyebrow.

"If you're fine, then just get up and come with me. I'll buy you some dango."

"I… uh…"

"Thought so." The man reached into a pocket on his baggy jeans to grab his phone, but a hand weakly swatted at him. The now-upright boy looked Toshinori in the ye and forced a frankly-hilarious grimace of a grin onto his bloodied face.

"I'll be fine, r-really. I kinda asked him to do this."

What?

"What?"

The man shook his head.

"Kid, have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"

The kid's face somehow turned even redder.

"N-n-no not like that!" He paused and made an attempt to gather himself. "I've wanted to become a hero for as long as I can remember, and Kacchan was just helping me."

"So he was helping you by beating the shit out of you?"

The boy nodded eagerly.

"See, I was… I got a perfect score on the UA written exam, but I don't stand a chance at the practical test. I-I don't have a quirk, and I don't have enough money to pay for any kind of martial arts dojo or anything like that, and I figured that I have to learn how to fight somehow, so…"

The man pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"You can't learn how to fight by getting the crap kicked outta ya."

The green haired kid shrugged. He still looked meek, but a new, almost-fierce look had taken hold in his eyes.

"Eventually, I will. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to become a hero. If I can learn even a little bit from Kacchan, then it'll be worth it."

"Why do you want to become a hero so badly?"

* * *

"Why do you want to become a hero so badly?"

There it was. _The_ question. What answer would he use this time?

Maybe it was the fact that the man looked so harmless, or maybe it was just the slight concussion playing with his head, but there was _something_ about his situation that made him want to spill his guts. So he did. In more ways than one.

He told the man everything. Probably a little too much, in all honesty. And he also confirmed that yes, he did in fact have a concussion.

By the time he finished, the sun was beginning to slip down the sky behind them. The man, to his credit, had listened patiently. He even seemed intrigued, at times.

After a long silence, the man opened his mouth for the first time since Izuku had started on his rant.

"What's your name, son?"

"Izuku Midoriya, sir." He was starting to feel flustered as he realized just how long he'd kept the poor man there.

"It's nice to meet you, Izuku. My name is Toshinori, and I… know a few heroes. I might be able to help you train, if you're-"

Izuku cut him off.

"Wait, you know heroes?! Which ones?! Do you know All M-"

Now it was Toshinori's turn to interrupt. Dammit, the kid was a fanboy, wasn't he?

"It's not important. As I was saying, I can try to teach you what I've learned from them, if you're willing to listen."

"O-of course, sir!"

"Let's get ya patched up. Then, we'll talk.

* * *

A half hour later, Toshinori officially had a student. The part-time hero still wasn't quite sure why he'd taken to Izuku like he had. When kids with big dreams and no quirks had approached All Might in the past, he'd always tried to gently tell them to give up on those dream of heroism and fame, A hero with such a massive disadvantage would be insanely risky, and a downright inefficient use of resources.

Maybe it was his own newfound weakness, or maybe it was that familiar look in that kid's eyes. Hell, maybe it was even the sob story. But something about Izuku Midoriya… resonated with the weary man. The kid was far too meak to even dream of inheriting One For All, but…

No, not going down that wormhole again. Right now, he was gonna train the shit out of that kid. Well, not right now. That kid was probably on his way to a hospital bed right now, if his parents had any sense. But 5:00 AM in a few days? Then it'd be training time.

Not like he could do anything else with the time, anyway.

* * *

Izuku hated lying to his mom, but… he just had to. He loved the woman to death, but she was about as overprotective as humanly possible. And then some.

He'd invented some tale about falling down the subway steps to explain away the injuries, then mentioned that he'd be training to run cross country. Hopefully that would cover all of the early mornings and any other time spent training. His mom worked all day, so she wouldn't be able to watch any of the imaginary races, anyway.

Oh, AND HE HAD A TRAINER NOW! AND HE DIDN'T HAVE TO LET KACCHAN BEAT ON HIM ANYMORE!

Life was good.

Owwwwwwww

The smile tugged on his various facial injuries.

Is anything easy?

* * *

 **(A/N) Man, I really love writing in this universe. There's so much room for activities!**

 **Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I should be able to keep churning these out somewhat quickly. Unfortunately, my life seems to be one huge string of unforeseen circumstances, so I might be pushing my luck just by saying that. Did you know that I had to spend like 8 hours a couple weeks ago working with some police department 2 hours away from me just because some random girl tried to add me on snapchat? Apparently that was enough to tie me into the investigation. I mean, I hope everyone ends up safe and sound, but I made it clear about 2 minutes in that I had no idea what the hell was happening. Ugh.**

 **It was genuinely terrifying. You always see these stories on TV and Reddit about people getting locked up on completely circumstantial evidence. I always get tied up in things, but this definitely took it to another level.**

 **Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. Lemme know what ya think!**


	4. Chapter 3: Life's a Beach

14 months.

A little over a year. That's how long Izuku Midoriya had before it was time to take the UA Physical Exam. That's how long Izuku Midoriya had to learn how to become a hero. That's how long Toshinori had to turn Izuku Midoriya into a person capable of becoming a hero.

Together, in the dawn light of Dagobah Beach, they made quite the pair. A skinny kid and an even skinnier man, both seemingly on the edge of death. Izuku, utterly exhausted from the single lap he had just run of the disintegrating boardwalk, and Toshinori… well, he just kinda gave off some "don't tell my nurses that I'm here" vibes.

"Kid, this is kinda pathetic."

Izuku desperately gasped down a few more breaths before pulling his hands from his knees and straightening up, wincing as the stitch in his abdomen fought his every movement.

Izuku was embarrassed, but "embarrassed" was pretty much just his natural state of being. He knew, deep down, that everybody had to start somewhere, and he sure as hell wasn't gonna give up after a short job.

"What's next?"

Toshinori raised his eyebrow at the ridiculous expression on the boy's face. It looked as if the kid was desperately constipated, but in a determined way. Should any of this work out, they'd have to discuss… whatever that was. The older man shrugged off that chain of thought.

"What do you know about this place?"

Izuku looked around for a moment as he tried to piece together the intent of that question. He could hardly see the sand beneath the piles of trash, but the sounds of seagulls and crashing waves reminded him just where they were.

"Uh, it's a beach? Or it used to be, I guess. Now it's a landfill."

Toshinori shook his head.

"Nope, it's still a beach. Always has been. Dagobah Beach. It was beautiful, when I was a kid. But then they build a dam a few hundred miles away, in some random river, and things changed. The currents shifted, and now, half of Japan's junk gets washed onto these shores. This place, it's a geographic quirk."

Toshinori was proud of his metaphor. Simile? Eh, he was a hero, not a grammar teacher. Whatever.

"As a hero, you'll eventually have to fight quirks. Figured you might as well get some practice in now. Your job, for the next couple of months, is to clean this beach. Every morning, you're going to get here by dawn, run a lap or two of the boardwalk, and move all this crap to the landfill down the street. I'll check on you a couple times a week and add some laps onto your warm up."

Izuku looked confused.

"This, uh, isn't really what I expected. What about, you know, weights? Fighting? Stuff like that?"

Toshinori rolled his eyes to hide his grin. Man, this kid was just walking into his little lecture perfectly. Maybe he should try teaching more often.

"Yes, as a hero, you'll have to fight. But, if you're lucky, those fights are few and far between. If you become a hero because love fighting, then you're hardly better than the villains who will be lining up to take their shot at you. Heroes help people. You're smart, kid. How do you think your little assignment here can help people?"

"Well it could spark a tourism boom in this area, which could be huge for…"

Toshinori tuned out the mumbled rantings and mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done. He could tell that Izuku was a smart kid, and before any real training could be done, Izuku had to embrace that intelligence. Yes, moving all this heavy shit around would improve his physical conditioning exponentially, but the task would be impossible without some creativity, thinking, and planning.

Plus, he couldn't sip on a beer in a gym. Here, well, who the hell was gonna stop him?

* * *

Everybody has a boiling point. There isn't a person alive who, if pushed far enough, won't snap.

At least Ochako was self-aware enough to know that she was nearing hers.

Today had actually been a relatively slow day. Her mom had left a lunch for her in the fridge before school, so at least she hadn't had to find food in that fifteen minute window between tutoring and training. Little luxuries.

She was mentally rolling her eyes at her own internal sarcastic jokes. That… didn't bode well for her continued sanity.

Running used to help her burn away the stress, but right now, as she jogged through the outskirts of Tokyo, she could feel the pressure clinging to her like a leech. She only had to live through 13 more months of this, but she had made the mistake of letting doubt creep in.

Oh, she was outwardly confident. Hell, she was inwardly confident, too. Ochako knew that, one day, she could become a fantastic hero. But she felt like the path toward that end goal was crumbling beneath her tired feet.

She wouldn't complain. Not in a million years. No matter how utterly exhausted she was, she knew that her parents had been through far worse.

Still, she needed a break, an excuse to stop and just breathe for a few minutes. Any distraction would do. Ochako just needed something that would keep her from feeling guilty about stopping. Like, maybe a kid skinning his knee by the jungle gym. Or an interesting bird. Or a green-haired boy pushing half a washing machine down the middle of the road.

Wait.

"Uh, excuse me, are you alright?"

The strange boy froze, as if Ochako's words had snapped him out of some sort of trance. He frantically searched for the source of those words, until, for a heartbeat, he made eye contact with Ochako.

Then his face turned red.

"Oh, hey, uh, yeah, I'm, err… fine. Um, how are you?"

She was gonna just ignore that.

"What are you doing?"

The boy shook his head quickly, seemingly shaking some of the red out of his face, and he took a second to catch his breath.

"Training!"

"By pushing a washing machine down the middle of the road?"

The boy nodded.

After an awkward silence, the kid froze again, as if something just popped into his head.

"Oh, well, that probably seems weird. It is! I want to become a hero, and there's this beach near here, and, uh, wax on wax off…"

He was quite the rambler, wasn't he? Still, he was the distraction she needed, and he seemed friendly enough.

"You want to be a hero?! Me too! That's actually why I'm out here. Gotta get my cardio on, and all that. I take this route all the time, though. How come I haven't seen you here before? Are you new to the area or something?"

The boy mumbled something, but Ochako couldn't understand it, so she asked him to speak up.

"Ah no, not really. I've been out here every day for a month now, but I kinda blend in so it's not surprising that you haven't seen me!"

They carried on with their awkward back and forth until the sun had almost set. There was just something… endearing about the boy. He was ernest, just like she always tried to be. Plus, she loved to talk, and he apparently loved listening.

"Well, I really have to get going. I'm Ochako, by the way. Ochako Uraraka. What's your name?"

"Izuku Midoriya."

"Nice to meet ya, Izuku! I'll see you around!"

With that, she moved to jog off home, but first, she had an idea. She tugged her glove off and gave the washing machine a quick slap, then finally left with a wink.

Izuku spent five minutes in awe of his life achievement. HE SPOKE TO A GIRL! Finally, he gathered himself and got back to work. He gave the washing machine a giant push, and… faceplanted. Hard. The machine took off, as if it were weightless.

In the distance, he could swear he heard Toshinori laughing.

Izuku kinda hated training.

* * *

 **A/N: Been a while, I know. Updates are always gonna be a bit sporadic, but you guys should be seeing a little burst of activity over the next month or two. Hope you all enjoyed, and be sure to let me know what ya think!**


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